


Blame it On the Mistletoe

by embuffalo



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-02 01:52:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2795420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embuffalo/pseuds/embuffalo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Santa's little matchmakers are hard at work in the B&B. HG gives Myka a lesson in botany.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blame it On the Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheRangress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRangress/gifts).



> A fluffy one-shot written as a Christmas present. I didn't write it with a specific time in mind, but if it were to be fit in-canon it would probably take place either sometime during S3 or post-S5.

“Stop that!” Claudia lunged out of Pete’s reach. “It won’t work if you press the button now!”

Claudia, Pete, and Steve were sitting on the stairs of the B&B, trying their best to play Santa’s little matchmakers. Myka had been wandering around the Warehouse in a lonely fashion of late, and Claudia had discovered many crumpled papers in the stacks that all began with some variation of “Dear Helena.” Claudia had contacted Helena—or HG—Wells, who had agreed to fly out to South Dakota for a visit.

“The way it works,” Claudia explained, “is by following the body heat of the person or persons in the room. I used some of the wiring principles of Albert Butz's glasses plus something of my own design. Anyway, if you press the button now, it’ll just go in there and hover over one spot.”

“Can I press the button when it’s time, then?” Pete asked.

“No!”

“Shh, you guys,” Steve interjected, pointing through the doorway to the living room. The doors that connected the living room to the dining room were opening. Myka came out, carrying a stack of presents.

“Okay, now,” Claudia said. She pressed the main button on the small device she held. A tiny brass contraption that was holding a twig skittered across the ceiling, following Myka’s movements.

Myka stopped abruptly. “Helena.” Her expression was difficult to decipher.

HG Wells was sitting on the sofa, idly leafing through a book. She looked up upon Myka’s entrance. “Hello, Myka,” she replied.

“Um, I didn’t know you were going to be here,” Myka said. She awkwardly shifted the packages in her arms to rest them on one hip. “Was this a spur-of-the-moment thing? Not that I mind,” she stammered, “but I wasn’t expecting you back so soon.”

“Really? Hmm. I made arrangements with Claudia weeks ago.” HG smiled brightly. “Then let’s call my delightful presence an early holiday gift.”

“Oh!” Myka looked down at the packages she held. “Helena, I’m so sorry; I didn’t get anything for you.” She walked over to the Christmas tree in the corner and began unloading the contents of her arms.

Myka darling, you didn’t have to get me anything,” HG said, standing. She followed Myka and helped the other woman place boxes underneath the tree.

As the two women stood up, HG followed Myka’s eyes with her own. HG’s gaze traveled upwards to the ceiling. She raised her eyebrows. Pausing, she asked, “Myka, have you ever studied botany?”

“Um, no.” Myka looked confused.

“Well, then I shall have to explain to you that there is a rather lovely specimen of _Phoradendron leucarpum_ right above your head, commonly referred to as American mistletoe.” HG looked expectantly at Myka.

Pausing, Myka closed her eyes for a moment and sighed, then implored, “Oh, god, why?” Her voice grew louder as she yelled, “Pete!”

At her call, Pete tumbled into the room, hands up. “It wasn’t me this time, I promise.”

Myka strode past Pete and out into the foyer.

“Myka!” HG called, following her.

Myka took the stairs two at a time, brushing past Steve and Claudia.

“You know,” Claudia drawled, “that piece of mistletoe is going to follow you wherever you go. And I do believe you know what the rooms upstairs are called.”

Myka turned, hands on hips, and pressed her lips together. Jogging down the steps between them, Myka grabbed HG’s face and kissed her. HG kissed her back, fingers weaving into Myka’s hair.

Pete, Steve, and Claudia whooped and clapped.

Pulling out of HG’s embrace, Myka muttered, “I am going to get you all.” As Myka tugged HG up the stairs, kissing her again, the other three agents high-fived one another as they headed back through the B&B to the kitchen.

“It worked!” Claudia squealed.

“A merry Christmas to all,” added Pete, grabbing a cookie from the counter.

“And,” Steve concluded, “to all, a good night.”


End file.
